The donkeys vision

A horse, a camel and a donkey decided to have a race.

The horse had its agility, it was running from the moment it was born. So it could go faster than most. Gallantly spritnting and jumping over hurdles

The camel had its endurance, born with thick skin and humps to store fat, it can go further than most without discomfort.

The donkey had niether of these, No where near as durable as the camel or as agile as the horse… It seemed the donkey was a dreamer to think it could win this race… But it looked niether at the elegant horse nor the towering camel, and kept its vision fixed on the course ahead.

The race started with a loud bang!

The horse got startled and would not move forward, it began to kick and neigh instead.

The camel got spooked and ran away in the opposite direction.

While the donkey, the smallest of them all, remained still, held to its vision and proceeded to win the race undeterred, unbothered, and unafraid.

Buried alive 

‘Buried alive’ 

Feelings that had blossomed into something beautiful, thrown back into the undergrowth, like a beam of  light sucked into a black hole. I couldn’t see the picture, you couldn’t play the roll… So we fought what felt right, and turned dawn back into night. We buried our emotions… a thought that has left me terrified. because I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure I burried mine alive…and that is such a cruel thing to do, to anything at all…

In colour and in rhyme

IMG_20170902_214054_401
the walk

“We are all here for a reason on a particular path
You don’t need a curriculum to know that you’re apart of the math
Cats think I’m delirious but I’m so damn serious
That’s why I expose my soul to the globe; the world
I’m tryin’ to make it better for these little boys and girls
I’m not just another individual
My spirit is a part of this, that’s why it’s spiritual
But I get my hymns from him
So it’s not me, it’s he, that’s lyrical
I’m not a miracle, I’m a heaven sent instrument
My rhythmatic regiment navigates melodic notes
For your soul and your mental
That’s why I’m instrumental, vibrations is what I’m into
Yeah I need my loot by rent day
But that ain’t what gives me the heart of Kunta Kinte
I’m tryin’ to give us us free like Sinke
I can’t stop, that’s why I’m hot
Determination, dedication, motivation
I’m talking to you of my many inspirations
When I say I can’t let you or self down
If I were on the highest cliff, on the highest riff
And if you slipped off the side, and clinched on to your life,
In my grip. I would never ever let you down
And when these words are found
Let it be known that God’s penmanship has been signed
With a language called love
That’s why my breath is felt by the death
And while my words are heard and confined to the ears of the blind
I too dream in color and in rhyme

So I guess I’m one of a kind in a full house
Cause whenever I open my heart, my soul or my mouth
A touch of god reigns out.” 

This poem by j. Ivy. was recorded on the track “never let you down” on kanye wests graduation album in 2004 .

 

 

1

Alone in this struggle, alone with this pain, alone in my bubble, alone in my brain.
Isolated from things I thought hated, yet my heart still beats heavy, and my moods all feel weighted.
Sourrounded by all I once saw as pure, but still feeling dirty inside…
separation is no cure…
De-rooted, so all my effort became fruitless…only under these barren branches do I realise what the truth is…
Every problem I have perceived in another, is also my own. Every struggle I have faced is somewhere I’ve grown… And  I never have, or ever will, do anything alone.

bonding

Be 

Individual battles that rattle our collective mind, painfully breathtaking, left us shaking, soaked in emotion, barely coping, hoping, floating, in an ocean of negativity. We dread…

Inactivity, from A will once strong, that now seems so tender. We grow colder as sin sits on our shoulders and urges us to surrender…
Our pride,

We do our best to hide fears, we dry tears, with lies…we flee from the now, and run rings round our own eyes… Somewhere in the miserable circles we see, we’ve forgotten how, to just be…
Free.

With our feelings, and thoughts. so anxious, to spend all the time we bought, we waste what little we have left. A twisted self-theft that leaves our true selfs on the bottom shelf. And our broke hearts in dept. we seek…
Verve.

To regrow the nerve,  to learn how, to just do,  without knowing exactly how…  to just be, and appreciate the unrivaled excellence, of now.

Instasize_0627233854

 

Obbatala and Sango

Sango and his wife Obba (the original zues and Metis) Two of the yoruba Orishas. I wanted to depict them not as gods, but as a yoruba man and woman that had awoken the God inside them.

Obatala is the mother/father of all Orishas and of human beings. She/He is also the owner of all heads and minds. Through Olorun, who created the universe.

IMG_0631Sango (shango) may be the most well known of the Orishas. He governs lightning, thunder, fire, drums and dance. Shango, a warrior Orisha of intelligence and wit, has irascible temperament and is the embodiment of manhood.

IMG_0712

(you can find out more on http://www.africanmagick.com/orisha-info.html)

shelter

All the pitter-patter prints different patterns in the back of my mind. I try to be shelter in turbid times.

All the chitter-chatter puts new coats on old characters, at the forefront of your thoughts. I pray we make the most of these rainy days.

You storm in, I storm out. Its almost always windy in our city, scatter-scatter, raining pain again… We try to drip dry under damaged umbrellas.

All the helter skelter, yet you are still, and I am still your shelter